


Lessons

by thirium goddess (sweetbabydean)



Category: Detroit: Become Human (Video Game)
Genre: F/M, Non-Consensual Voyeurism, Poor gavin, Semi-Public Sex, They Get It On In The DPD
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-06-30
Updated: 2019-07-12
Packaged: 2020-05-30 21:41:07
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 5,290
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19411948
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sweetbabydean/pseuds/thirium%20goddess
Summary: Connor will reward you for behaving, but it also serves as a punishment for someone else.





	1. Found Out

**Author's Note:**

> Hi! You guys can come drop requests/ideas in my inbox over @ thegodbucky on tumblr! All work is reposted from there. It also has my Ko-fi link should you feel gracious enough. I can also be found ranting on tumblr about my writing and ideas under the same name as this ao3 (thiriumgoddess).

“You’re _testing_ me.”

The growl startles you, making your head whip up fast as lightning. Your eyes are wide, saucer-like in your surprise. Connor isn’t usually so brash, normally factual yet soft spoken. It seems as if he’s traded in his honeyed tone for something dark and low — molasses thick — and you’re ashamed to admit it makes you wet.

“W-what do you me— I’m not doing anything!” You stutter, tripping over your tongue as you try not to give away your fear or arousal.

Any attempt at hiding from Connor is futile. He’s a goddamn **android** and one scan will tell him everything you’re feeling laid out on a pie chart. It should be disconcerting, but you’ll admit, it’s had its perks in the past.

The android smirks, tutting his tongue at your blatant lies. You know exactly what you’ve done — how you’ve riled him up all day. He supposes you could have just been being yourself, after all, he finds everything you do enticing. However, something tells him that today was over the top — as if you wanted him to notice.

“Oh, darling. Did you really think I wouldn’t notice? That I’d ignore the **extra** swish of your hips? That I’d neglect to see the eyes you’ve been flashing at me? That I’d _really_ let you slide for flirting with coworkers as a way to get me to pay attention?”

You gulp, thighs squeezing together to relieve the sudden ache. A hand reaches to cup your jaw, forcing you to look up and maintain eye contact despite how you would very much like to scurry away. Connor’s eyes are dark, pupils dilated much like you’re sure your own are.

“Remember who’s in charge here, _pet_. I **won’t** remind you again.”

If you could melt, you would. You’d be a puddle at his feet — turned to mush with just a few words. Before him, you don’t think you would have considered yourself submissive, preferring to keep your sex life basic and unattached. Connor has his ways, and you knew — even before he broke programming — that you’d give him anything and everything he could ask for. Luckily for you, the only thing he’d wanted was your heart — this simmering dominance over you is just a bonus.

“Yes, s-sir,” you whimper, feeling woozy already.

Lips press to yours and you feel euphoric, like finally tasting water after hiking through the desert. You tug him in, putting your all into the kiss. You try to deepen it, but he pulls away, brown eyes crinkling at the sight of his desperate girl. You are truly magnificent and if it was appropriate to take you right here in the middle of your workplace, he would. However, he has class and he doesn’t dare give Reed any more reason to ogle your curves than he has already.

“ **Behave,** _little one_ ,” Connor rasps, lips tilted up. “Behave for me and you can have whatever you want.”

You nod, helpless to do anything but. He thanks you with another kiss, leaving you aching for more. You can’t wait to get home.

~

It’s not your fault and Connor knows that. You really had been good for him. You stopped flirting with Captain Allen, only batting your pretty lashes for him and no one else. But it doesn’t stop the sheer anger that shoots through him when he watches Gavin flirt with you. It’s shameless — how does that **cretin** have the audacity to talk to you? Why does that _filthy_ _wretch_ think he can touch what is Connor’s?

The hopeless look you shoot Connor is almost enough to bring him back; you look so pitiful with your wide eyes. You just want to be good for him and you are good — the best pet. But Gavin Reed is not to be trusted and the fact that he’s got his nasty hands on you makes Connor hungry for blood.

Apparently he doesn’t do an adequate job at showing the department that you’re taken. He feels like he failed as a lover if men still think they have the right to approach you, to touch you as if they have any chance to take you as theirs. Connor will deactivate before he allows another man to touch you as he has — over his dead, self-destructed body.

“That’s enough,” Connor interrupts, face stoic.

“Oh, _great_. Here comes the tin-can savior. Back off. Can’t you see I’m busy here?”

“Detective,” Connor snarls. “I suggest you remove your **_paws_** from my girlfriend or I will cut them off myself.”

Gavin snatches his hand back like he’s been burned, disgust evident in his expression. You’d been with this plastic prick? Seriously? And to think Gavin had wasted his time trying to swoon you for a quick fuck.

“Jesus Christ. _Seriously_? You’d rather fuck this piece of metal? Gross. Let me know when you’re ready for a **real man** , sweetheart.”

“I—I,” You stutter, not knowing what to say.

You feel oddly embarrassed and Connor can sense it. He pulls you close enough to touch and your bottom lips wobbles, threatening to give way to your distressed cries. Gavin stomps away from the two of you, disgusted and angry. Connor only sees you.

His hand tightens around your wrist and you gasp, ready to spurt out how you’re sorry. That you hadn’t meant to be bad. Gavin has an knack for constantly trying to get in your pants but you’ve never once entertained the idea. Even in your mission to rile Connor up, the one person you’d never approach would be Gavin. You’d offer reassurance that you would never give that rat the time of day, but Connor’s rough drawl cuts you off before you even have the chance.

“Hush now, little one. I have plans for you.”

He’s not looking at you, but instead his eyes are trailing after Reed, narrowed with frustration — calculating. You shudder gently, a small gasp making its way out of you. You really hope it’s not a punishment; you were good! Connor’s hand squeezes yours and his eyebrows furrow deeper — any question you fix him with is ignored until finally, you’re agreeing.

“Yes, sir,” you whisper, trying to placate him. You hope he’ll say something.

“My sweet girl, do not look so downtrodden. You have nothing to worry about.”

You want to believe him, but the cold stare sets your tummy ~~and your cunt~~ on fire. You wonder exactly where down the line your wires got crossed so violently. Nonetheless, you let him pull you in for a kiss, hoping that when you finally do make it out of here, the only marks you’ll wear tomorrow are hickeys on your neck.

You have no idea that Connor has no intention of taking you home. He has a lesson to teach. Gavin will be his pupil and you happen to be the lesson-plan.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Connor uses you to teach Gavin a lesson.

Gavin doesn’t appreciate being tied up and gagged. He doesn’t appreciate being blindfolded and manhandled either. His head is absolutely ringing, like he’s taken too many straight shots of tequila. But he hasn’t had a drink in days and the last thing he remembers is trying to take a piss before ending his shift at the precinct.

He vaguely recalls being rudely interrupted by a certain plastic prick, but the rest is history. Gavin knows he’s uninjured —save for the awful migraine— and that’s about it. Whatever the fuck this is, when he gets outta here, that plastic piece of shit is gonna pay double.

“I am a simple man, Detective Reed. I come in, I do my job, I leave. I couldn’t care less what goes on in this facility, except for when it involves my precious girlfriend. Unfortunately for me, you seemed to have developed a sick infatuation with my darling and I do not take kindly to others tampering with what is mine.”

Ah, yes. Him. Tin Can. Unfortunately, that voice only serves to increase the throbbing in Gavin’s head.

“You see, you have a nasty habit of going after things you can’t have. An even nastier habit of trying to touch things that don’t belong to you. I thought we could be adults about this —be respectful — but you seem to have less intelligence and a lower capacity for self-preservation than I originally thought. So now, I have to take time out of my day to see to it that you know your place.”

Gavin wishes he could talk so he could ask this idiotic piece of metal what the fuck he’s talking about. Rambling on about you? Gavin just wanted to get laid for fuck’s sake! Not like he knew you and plastic boy were knocking boots. But suddenly, the blindfold is ripped off and Gavin is squinting against the bright lights, head pounding even harder now. When his eyes finally adjust, Connor comes into view.

“It’s a shame it had to come to this, Detective.”

What? Why can’t he just untie Gavin, and they settle this like men? Oh, that’s right! Because this elongated coffee can isn’t a man. He wonders briefly if you might be damaged; he really can’t see the plastic’s appeal.

“You see,” Connor smirks, and it’s unsettling because it’s the first sign of emotion Gavin’s seen since the blindfold came off. “I’m going to fuck my girlfriend, there, just on the other side of that mirror. And you, my dear friend, are going to watch. Maybe then, you’ll understand that what’s mine is mine.”

Connor flicks the lights off, allowing Gavin a better view of the currently empty interrogation room. He twists, trying to pull at the restraints but it’s no use. That fucking android ties better knots that the worlds finest Boy Scouts. Go figure.

“I’m a gracious man, Gavin Reed. But I’m also unpredictably possessive. I do not share. Let this serve as a warning to stay away from her — away from my territory. Should I catch you in her presence again, I will not be as forgiving. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I have a show to put on.”

Gavin watches, slightly in shock, as Connor slips out the door. He doesn’t like the feeling in his stomach and tries once more to escape his bound prison. It’s no use of course, that fucking toaster is good at everything. Gavin can only wait and hope he makes it through whatever this is with some dignity left.

~

“Connor,” you moan, knees buckling at the mere thought of what he’s suggesting. You’d thought for sure after that whole Gavin fiasco, you were headed for punishment city.

“Come on, pet. Tell me that you haven’t imagined it. You spread out over that wide table, me between your thighs, giving you all the pleasure you could ever want.”

And you’d be lying to say you hadn’t thought of what sex in the interrogation room would be like. Although, when the fantasy had first come to fruition in your mind, it had always happened after an intense questioning between Connor and a suspect. The way he exuded dominance and took no bullshit always had your knees knocking together whenever you had the privilege to witness it. The thought of him getting so worked up and then splitting you open to relieve the adrenaline nearly causes you to have an aneurysm.

“I-oh!” You shout, lids drooping without protest as Connor hauls you up against his body by your ass. “Connor.”

“Let me show you a good time, little one. After all, this is what you’ve been begging for all day isn’t it? You know you won’t regret it.”

You do know that. You’ve never once regretted anything so long as Connor was involved. Whether it be the sex, the relationship, daily interaction, everything Connor does with you never leaves you desiring for anything else. He’s the perfect boyfriend — like Kamski himself had made Connor just for you.

You let him drag you down the hallway, giggling all the while. You have butterflies in your stomach, much like you did the first time you slept with him. This makes you feel younger —naughtier — than you are and you suppose that is Connor’s goal. To make you giddy and weak in the face of your own excitement.

The door to the interrogation room slides open and you find yourself being hauled up into Connor’s arms. The movement leaves you breathless, heated stare meeting his. You shouldn’t be so turned on by Connor’s displays of supreme strength — understanding that he is an android — but you are, so much so that you feel that first real trickle of slick make its way out of you.

Your legs tighten around his waist as you whine, eager for whatever has in store for you. To your dismay, he sits you upon the table top, but when you glance at his face, you’re under the impression that you won’t be feeling sad for long.

“There are so many things I want to do to you, little one,” he drawls, grasping your chin in his big hand. “So many ways to ruin you.”

You bite back a whimper, wrapping your hand around his tie, trying to pull him further between your parted thighs. You want him pressed up against you so much that you two fuse together. You would tell him as much, but you know it’s probably written all over your face; Connor can read you like a book, anyways.

His head dips to kiss you, swallowing down your pleased hum. A roughened tongue runs over the crevices of your mouth, sampling the taste within. Connor kisses like fire, quick and burning. It’s a pillage to which you stand no chance; you’re helpless to this beautifully dominant machine.

“Take me,” a soft breath against his lips.

“What’s that? Can’t hear you, baby.”

“Take me,” a low whine, drawn out and impatient.

“One more time for me, pet. Loud and clear.”

“Please fuck me,” it’s as clear as you can make it without spontaneously combusting, and loud enough to make your voice echo back a bit.

“Oh, I will, little one,” he tuts, effectively silencing your begging. “Eventually.”

You pout, eyes nearly watering at the thought of not getting the release you’ve been waiting for. Connor internally snickers at your behavior, wonders if Reed is listening. Knowing that you’re shamelessly begging for him and his arch nemesis has to bear witness has his artificial veins thrumming with an excitement he’s never experienced before. He wants to own you — consume you — in front of that arrogant prick. Reed must know that you are Connor’s and Connor’s alone.

“Don’t give me that look. I’ll make you forget how long you’ve been waiting soon enough.”

“But!”

“Ah, ah, ah. No buts, little one. You’ll get what I give you. Nothing less and nothing more.”

~

Some time later he’s got you spread out on the table beneath him, breathless and chest heaving from the lack of air. You can’t help but stare up at Connor with lidded eyes, tracking his every movement. You’re still far too dressed for his liking, blouse opened and wrinkled and skirt bunched up high on your thighs. His hands trail over your shoulders to the cups of your bra, debating his next move. You think he's going to ask you to take it off but the minute his eyes meet yours, you know you’re wrong. Connor smirks, devilish. You watch in disbelief as he instead grabs on to the cups and yanks, your breasts spilling free as he rips the fabric in half.

In turn, you squeal, nipples budding in the chill of the air. “Connor!”

“Shh, pet. Wouldn’t want the whole precinct to hear you, now would you?” he asks, cupping your breasts in his hands.

You know the building is empty, or at least mostly so, but that doesn’t stop the fear from curling low in your gut. You look to the door of the interrogation room, stomach clenching at the thought of being found on the table with your tits exposed. Funny how embarrassment and arousal are so closely intertwined in your brain.

Connor distracts you as the palms of his hands rub against your hardened nipples, stimulating them just enough to make you squirm. He catches you off guard by pulling one nipple between his fingers and dipping his head to catch the other in his mouth. You can feel the wetness fill your slit at his ministrations, pushing your chest into his face in an attempt to get closer — get more.

The hum he releases is muffled against your flesh as he moves to take the neglected nipple between his lips. You can’t help but run your fingers through his perfectly styled hair, legs tightening around his waist when he tugs a tad too hard with his teeth. His descent down your torso is filled with nips and kisses, making you keen and mewl with the attention. When he reaches the band of your skirt he pauses, brown eyes boring into you from between your thighs.

“Please,” you mumble, wanting to satisfy the ache that’s building inside you.

What he gives you isn’t exactly what you wanted, but then again, you should have known it wouldn’t be that easy. Still, you can’t deny how good it feels. His mouth sucks over your clit through your panties, tongue darting to circle it out. They’d been soaked before and you can only imagine the state of them now, the mix of your fluids now drenching the fabric. Connor doesn’t let you bask in the attention too long before he’s moving on, taking your underwear along with him.

When he moves back, you feel a sheen of embarrassment fall over you. Your knees twitch to draw closed, but Connor is quick to stop you with a raise of his eyebrow. It’d probably do you well not to challenge him — no matter how uncomfortable it makes you to lie there like he’s examining you.

“Turn towards the mirror.”

You don’t think twice, just maneuver yourself so that you’re twisted to the side. There’s a small knot in your gut as you wonder how you must look, half undressed and pussy glistening under fluorescent lights for whoever decides they wanna venture to the interrogation room. However, it’s worth it for the way Connor’s looking at you. Like you are the only thing that is going to satisfy his infinite hunger.

He sheds his jacket with ease, undoing the buttons on his sleeves to roll them up his forearms. He looks so focused, not once taking his eyes off of where you’re dripping. Right now, he doesn’t even care that Reed is seeing this. All Connor cares about is getting his mouth back on you. There’s something about seeing you wet and swollen that makes his processors swirl into overdrive.

“I’m going to make you come. And then I want you to strip for me so I can make you come again. And again. And again.”

You gasp and nod, hitching your legs up, offering your wet cunt to his heated gaze. Fingers trail up your legs and thighs, effectively spreading you wider for him. You can hear the seams in your skirt ripping but you don’t care, not when your boyfriend is dropping to his knees like he’s in a trance. There’s no preamble — no warning — just his fingers pulling your labia apart so he can get right to the prize.

“F-fuck,” you squeal.

His mouth is insistent and you realize right away that he’s gonna push you over the edge in no time. You don’t understand. You twist and moan, toes curling at the finesse Connor uses between your thighs. You try to fight your oncoming orgasm as much as you can, but you’re weak. You’ve always been weak for him. All it takes is a few traces of that glorious tongue on your clit and you’re convulsing, thighs twitching beside his ears.

“So easy, little one,” he smirks, tongue slipping out to lick the remnants of you from his mouth.

“Fuck y-you,” you stammer. “I can’t help it.”

“Mm, behave, pet. You won’t be able to help the stinging of your ass either if you can’t control your mouth or get out of those clothes. I don’t like to be kept waiting.”

Your eyes widen and you begin to strip quickly, doing your best not to topple over or further damage your clothing in your haste. Sitting back on your knees, every inch of you is exposed from head to toe. Connor only licks his lips, looking every bit the apex predator you know he could be.

Brown eyes swallow you whole, but it doesn’t stop you from holding his gaze. “I’m gonna wreck you.”

All you have for an answer is, “please.”

~

He makes you come two more times, nothing but his mouth and fingers working you over. Your arms are shaking from holding yourself up but you wanted to see him. Connor’s tongue is a blessing and a curse and you’re not quite sure how you’ve made it this far. Usually orgasm number two puts you down for the count but you’re still aching. There’s a figurative hole in your womb that gets bigger with each passing second and only Connor can fill it.

Watching him strip out of his uniform is torture. All that freckled, porcelain skin on display. You want to reach out and touch but you’re too weak, body flopping backwards against the hard surface of the table. All you can do is watch him and hope he decides to fill you up the way you want.

The wet bob of his cock draws your eyes, a long, high-pitched whine leaving your throat. You wonder if Cyberlife knew just what they were doing when they created him. From the soft dips of muscles to the veins along his cock, Connor is a peak male specimen. And there are very few people in existence that you can say that about.

“See something you like, little one?”

“Y-yeah,” you stutter bodly, eyes never leaving his body.

“Hm, wonder what that could be?”

He’s teasing you and you know it, not wanting to rise to the bait. Connor knows how you get the minute his cock comes out. And it’s not a big deal, you’re sure anyone in their right mind would melt into a puddle of glue if their partner was even half as gorgeous as Connor is. You want his body on you. Now. You’ll do whatever it takes.

Luckily for you, you don’t need to do anything. Before you know it, he’s back between your spread thighs, dick resting dangerously on your wet slit. All it would take is a small shift of your hips and he’d be inside you. All that cock to fill you up just right — just the way you’ve been gagging for all afternoon. Something in his eyes keeps you in your spot though, not moving, just waiting for him to give you what you need.

He moves you the way he wants, legs pressed back into your chest. You’ve never felt so exposed, knuckles between your teeth to prevent yourself from whimpering like a baby. The head of his dick is kissing your entrance, testing your resolve that’s bound to snap at any given minute. Something predatory in Connor’s eyes shows itself and the android’s ever-present smirk turns feral.

“How many times do you think I can make you come on just my cock?”

Your answer is a choked off scream.

~

“P-please. No more,” you whine, head tossing from side to side.

You’re on your hands and knees, ass up in the air and panting like a bitch in heat. You’ve lost count of how many times you’ve come. And even now, as he pushes you up and past your limits, you’re torn between asking him to stop and asking him to go faster — give the release that your body needs. Your palms skid across the able with a particularly hard thrust, arms giving out so you’re flush against the table top.

“Hands,” Connor snarls, hips smacking into yours.

You whine, shaking your head in the negative. You can barely hold still! You need your arms and hands to hold you in place, to prevent you from sliding over the table surface haphazardly. Connor doesn’t let up though, and no time passes before he’s plastered along your back, fisting his hand in your hair and growling.

“I said, give me your fucking hands.”

You can’t reach your hands back fast enough. When Connor grasps them, he crosses your wrists to make it easier to grip them both in one hand. The other presses gently on your back to keep you down, caged in and helpless to the movement of his hips.

“Good girl,” he huffs, hips slowing but not pausing. “Look at how easy you give it up for me. The inclination of my voice alone has you scrambling to obey, doesn’t it?”

You hate that it’s true, how even when he’s supposed to be rewarding you, it feels a bit like a punishment. But this was what you wanted, no? No human would dare fuck you as brutally or as thoroughly as this android. And the undeniable truth is that you love it, never want to be ruined like this by anyone else. The overabundance of cream covering Connor’s cock is testament to that.

“C-connor,” you plead, back arching. “I’ve been good, please.”

“Mm, you have, haven’t you? Always so good for me,” he pauses, watching you shiver beneath him. “Baby wants her reward, huh? You want to come, little one?”

“Please!”

He responds by speeding up his thrusts, angling them in a direction that allows him to just barely graze your g-spot. You’re dying, insides burning with the new sensation. How did you manage to land this outlandishly attractive man who knows how to work his cock just so? You have no idea, but you’re so lucky he’s yours.

Your eyes cross as you feel yourself come, mouth open in a silent scream and body jerking in an ill attempt to escape Connor’s grasp. Of course, he doesn’t let you. Instead you’re being pulled up, his strong arms holding you close to his body. If it wasn’t for him, you’d surely fall off the table — your thighs are trembling far too much to be safe.

“C-Con,” You slur, arms still locked behind you even though he’s no longer holding them.

“Hang in there, baby. Gotta give me another.”

You want to cry, skirting the edges of overstimulation. Part of you is hoping he’ll notice and take mercy on you but the majority of you knows that there’s no stopping Connor when he gets like this. You can’t really complain; he makes you come more than anybody you’ve ever been with. When you have a man who puts your pleasure above his own — even when he’s punishing you — what’s there to be upset about?

“‘K-Kay,” you mumble as you start to feel him pick his thrusts back up.

Small ripples make their way through your body, slightly oversensitive. The feeling of him inside you is muted a bit due to the copious amount of slick you’re producing, but it’s not any less enjoyable. You watch yourself in the two way mirror, cheeks coloring at the picture you make. You wonder what your colleagues would say if they could see you now, whimpering and drooling all over yourself. The thought only makes you wetter — a feat you thought impossible— and you feel your walls clench down forcefully against the shaft inside you.

“So pretty,” Connor whispers, fingers pulling briefly at your nipples.

You hiss as he plays with the swollen buds, rolling the sensitive flesh between his fingers. Your walls flutter around his dick but he’s not ready to make you come again just yet. Your body’s so pliant like this, loose and malleable after four orgasms. His thighs are covered in you but he doesn’t care, he’d drown in you if it was an option.

The tremble in your thighs worsens when his fingers roll over your swollen clit, head lolling along his shoulder because you can’t be bothered to hold it up any longer. You can barely be bothered to moan, feeling tired and worn out; everything is so heavy.

“Connor, please. I can’t.”

“Hush. One more, okay? Just one more.”

One strong hand wraps firmly around your throat, pushing your back up from his shoulder. The pace of his hips picks up again and your body is already protesting, but you know better than to say anything. You’re a good girl and what Connor wants, Connor gets.

“Look at yourself,” he pants against your ear, “All fucked out. Can’t even hold your own weight up any longer.”

“Y-your fault,” you sigh, breath hitching when his eyes meet yours through the glass.

“That’s true. I’m the only one who can get you like this, huh, baby? Nobody else?”

“No, no one else,” you sob, thighs shaking with exertion. “C-con, I’m —“

“Shh, I know. Gonna get you there. Watch the mirror, pet. Want you to see what you look like for me.”

And honestly, the sight of yourself shouldn’t be that arousing, but it is. You’re so out of it, surprised you can even stay focused with how mushy your mind is. There’s a full body blush covering you and your eyes are glossed over, mouth hanging open so you can mewl out your pleasure. The orgasm takes you by surprise, making your whole body clench up right and your eyes roll back in your head.

You’re vaguely aware of Connor’s growling, before his hips come to a halt, filling you up the way you’ve been begging for since the start of all this. You let him do all the work of maneuvering you — too out of it to do anything else. You listen to the soft hum of his voice as he dresses you both, eyes still glassy after five orgasms.

“I think,” he says while looking you over, “you could have given me six.”

“No, no, no. No. Too sensitive,” you whimper.

“Maybe next time then. Let’s get you home, little one. How does a bath sound?”

“Mm, good. You always take such good care of me,” you babble, tucking your head into his chest.

Connor glances towards the mirror one last time, tiny smirk in place for the unknown guest behind it. Connor knows he takes excellent care of you; he always takes care of what’s his. Now Detective Reed knows that too.

~

That. Plastic. Prick.

Gavin is paralyzed, practically sobbing himself, watching Connor pick you up off the table. He swears to the maker that as soon as he gets out of this fucking chair he’s going to beat the ever-loving shit out of that tin can. How is he ever supposed to look at you two the same again? Oh, just wait until that android comes back to untie him. It’s on!

Or maybe not, he thinks, taking a minute to glance downward. Thankfully his jeans are dark wash, sort of hiding the fact that he’s come at least once watching you. It’s not his fault, and believe him, it’s not like he wanted to get off watching you get fucked by some walking dildo, but it happened. Better believe he’s taking that to the fucking grave. And for the first time in a long while, Gavin feels shame. He just really wants out, to get home and drink himself to sleep.

All the fight practically drains out of him while he waits for Connor to release him. But after what feels like ample time, Gavin starts to fear the worst. Connor is going to come back to release him.... right?!


End file.
